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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439886">Hang on Behind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLyssa/pseuds/CaptainLyssa'>CaptainLyssa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Enterprise</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Humor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:02:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLyssa/pseuds/CaptainLyssa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I just read an old story called Intercom Chronical. This is my take on the idea of an open channel across Enterprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Jon,” Trip called, entering the Captain’s quarters. Before he could get more than a step, Porthos was on him, jumping and baying for attention. “Who’s a good boy, Prothy, who’s a good boy.”</p><p> </p><p>The beagle stopped his howling the moment Tucker’s hands reached that spot behind his ears. The sound turned into contentment. Brown eyes looking up, the animal openly displayed his pleasure. Ending with a pat on the head, the skin around Trip’s orbs crinkled with the dog’s antics.</p><p> </p><p>“Jon?” the engineer called again as he straightened up.</p><p> </p><p>Finally making it into the main cabin after stepping over Porthos, Trip couldn’t see hide nor hair of the Captain. However, by the time he made it to the other side of the bed, the trail of clothing suggested Jon striped haphazardly on the way to the bathroom. Years as friends meant the two had a close, personal relationship that had managed to weather a few storms. Approaching the door, it opened automatically and engulfed the surprised commander in a cloud of steam. With a shrug, Tucker stepped through, hoping to save Archer further embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>Unsure who disturbed his bathing, but in an unusually cheerful mood, Captain Jonathan Archer teased, “get undressed and get in here, if you’re blond, blue-eyed and good looking. That’s an order.”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you like me to turn the intercom off, Old Man,” Trip returned, “before or after joining you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Trip,” Jon sounded genuinely startled.</p><p> </p><p>The engineer touched the little white button, tuning out their private conversation to the rest of the ship. Unable to stop the mile-wide smirk, Tucker teased, “you know, your singing’s enough to make Porthos howl. As to the rest of the crew, I’m not sure they took it any better than your dog.”</p><p> </p><p>“How long,” Jon shut off the water and stuck a hand out for a towel.</p><p> </p><p>“Long enough,” Trip returned, comfortably settled against the basin and ignoring the gesture, “that it’ll bring new meaning to ‘hang on behind’.”.</p><p> </p><p>“Commander,” the Captain growled, waving his hand.</p><p> </p><p>Relenting, Trip handed over the item and removed himself from the bathroom. Picking up Jon’s scattered clothing, he put the uniform and undergarments in the fresher. Shaking his head, the engineer knew he’d be in for some serious teasing. However, the Captain would get the lion’s share, none of it directed towards his face. Deciding digression might be the better part of valour, Commander Tucker vacated the premises forthwith. He’d talk to Jon about bringing their relationship out in the open over a private dinner in the Captain’s mess. There didn’t seem to be any point in hiding it any longer, now he’d accidentally outed them.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ten minutes earlier.</p><p> </p><p>“What the bloody hell is that?” Malcolm muttered under his breath, hoping rather than believing anyone on the bridge would hear him above the din coming from the internal speakers.</p><p> </p><p>Anything had to be better than an off-key voice attempting to sing ‘roll the old chariot’. The somewhat colourful language included phrases such as ‘we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails,’ and ‘we'll all hang on behind,’. Being from a family with an old naval tradition, Lt. Malcolm Reed knew the sea shanty. Well aware there were three more verses, if the Captain hadn’t made up a few more of his own, the tactical officer tried to close down the open channel. Or at least, mitigate the damage to just the bridge crew.</p><p> </p><p>Sub-Commander T’Pol’s hearing being more acute than a human, raised her head at his comment, displaying a slight wince at the piped entertainment which had to be grating on her nerves more than anyone else. An eyebrow lifted, as she readied to say something cutting in rebuke. However, the man in the big chair beat the Vulcan to the punch line.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir,” Trip grinned wickedly, “what the bloody hell was that, Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sure I follow, Commander,” Malcolm looked up from his console, somewhat astonished the Engineer heard, let alone decided to tease him.</p><p> </p><p>“From the sound,” T’Pol allowed her eyebrow to climb higher, “of water falling, it is probable the Captain is attempting to sing in the shower.”</p><p> </p><p>“With a little accompaniment from his four-legged friend,” Trip added, his grin turning feral. “I would have thought you’d know all about old sea shanties, Lieutenant.” The last work came out mangled in Tucker’s very broadest twang.</p><p> </p><p>“I believe I could do a better rendition than the Captain,” Malcolm met his friend’s eye, “Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sub-Commander, you have the bridge,” Trip stood, with every intention of resolving this, even if it was at Jon’s expense. “Give me five minutes and I should have this little issue fixed.”</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s hope so,” Travis waited until the turbolift door closed before putting in his oar.</p><p> </p><p>Ensign Sato wisely said nothing, although her expression stated all she wouldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Several minutes passed with the Captain now claiming ‘a night on the town wouldn't do us any harm’ before Porthos’s baying changed in timber. Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis allowed their eyes to meet and grins to cover their faces. Obviously, the little beagle seemed happy someone had come to stop his master’s horrendous noise. When the quadruped quieted, they knew Trip settled the dog. Of course, no one on the bridge, or any of the crew of <em>Enterprise</em>expected the Captain to order Commander Tucker to strip and join him in the shower, even if it sounded like a jest. Luckily, Trip returned the teasing before finally turning the comm system off. While the entire escapade became a joke Captain Archer wouldn’t it live down any time soon.</p><p> </p><p>“This,” T’Pol’s face didn’t move, maintaining her impassive Vulcan expression, “should prove interesting, when I join the Captain and Commander for dinner this evening. I am intrigued as to why the Captain ordered Commander Tucker into his shower.”</p><p> </p><p>The three junior officers waited until their shift finished before leaving the bridge together. “Did I imagine it,” Travis asked, “or did the Sub-Commander crack a joke.”</p><p> </p><p>“I scanned two light years in every direction,” Malcolm shook his head, his dry British humour at its best, “but found nothing to explain her odd behaviour, nor that of the Captain.”</p><p> </p><p>“I guess,” Hoshi smiled, “we have to assume we’re finally rubbing off on her.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Sub-Commander developing a sense of humour,” Travis chuckled. “No way. That would be a likely as the Captain and Commander sleeping together.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>You want more? Let me know.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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